


self control (frank ocean)

by cielchat



Series: not your mother's songfics [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Frank Ocean - Freeform, M/M, Songfic, Teenage Sweethearts, Tokyo Training Camp Arc (Haikyuu), go listen to self control by frank ocean right now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27831766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cielchat/pseuds/cielchat
Summary: and if he could Kuroo would move Miyagi to the suburbs of Tokyo so that he could walk Tsukki home from school every day and kiss him goodbye on his doorstep, or something sweet and simple like that. Something that would make the timing right and the summers longer.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Series: not your mother's songfics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037031
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24





	self control (frank ocean)

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to frank ocean for ruining my life and another shoutout to tiktok user @teddddyyy for understanding me perfectly

Tsukki hadn’t gone back to Karasuno’s room yet.

The two of them had watched Bokuto and Akaashi amble and glide respectively back towards the room Fukurodani was staying in, and Yaku mop Lev off the floor of the gym, but they were caught in the flickering gym light beside the corner of the sidewalk that would take them back to their own teams. Kuroo leaned against the post, feeling absolutely no desire to rush to bed, and Tsukki wasn’t moving either. Tsukki, who Kuroo knew to cut short a bothersome teammate with a single glare, who would snap on his headphones the moment practice or mealtimes were over. Kuroo knew the feeling, as rare as it was, when you didn’t have anywhere else you wanted to be but talking to the person in front of you, and boy did he feel it now. Even in the halfhearted attempt of the lights to stay lit, he couldn’t see any annoyed twitches in Tsukki’s shoes, no shoulders turning slightly away. Kuroo stretched his arms to rest behind his head. Smiled.

“You want to go stargazing?”

Tsukki lifted an eyebrow at him. “We’re starting practice again at eight am.”

“Your futon is twenty feet away, you cheeky country boy. You’re not in it. Stargazing isn’t gonna be any more exhausting than standing on cement in shitty light.”

Tsukki still didn’t call his bluff and leave—or even make to. Another win for Kuroo. 

“As if there’s even any stars here in the city,” Tsukki huffed.

“The city. This suburb. Yeah right.” Kuroo walked past him towards the grassy hill, clapping him on the arm on the way. “Come on.”

He didn’t have to hear the footsteps to know Tsukki would follow him, but it was nice to know anyways. He began to climb the hill only to hear an annoyed groan.

“You,” Tsukishima grumbled, “may not have gotten your fill of penalties this week, but fuck you for making me go up this hill again.”

Quick as a snake, Kuroo reached back and grabbed Tsukki’s warm hand in his own, pulling him up behind Kuroo.

“That’s not what I meant,” Tsukishima began to complain, but they reached the top and Kuroo collapsed, languid, onto the grass. Tsukki settled down gingerly beside him.

“Don’t care,” Kuroo said with a lazy grin.

“Hmpf.” An obligatory tilt back of a blond head. “Your stars are shit here.”

“You must be looking in the wrong direction then,” Kuroo said, grin only growing wider as he waited to Tsukki to look directly into his eyes, confused. 

“Shut,” Tsukki blustered, “the fuck up. Please.”

“No,” Kuroo chuckled. “We might not have your country stars, but you should see the city skyline at night. The actual city, not these Tokyo outskirts. It’s fucking gorgeous being on a rooftop. I love being fifteen stories up and watching the traffic below me. The lights, mostly.”

“I’ve been to Tokyo downtown before.”

“At night?”

“At night,” Tsukki said dryly. “You’re right. I liked it. Wish I could go more often, but it’s not exactly an every other weekend trip.”

I’ll take you, Kuroo wanted to say. Instead, he settled for “I guess you are a little too lanky for your mom to stuff you in a suitcase.”

“Fun-nee,” Tsukki scoffed. Kuroo was pretty sure he wasn’t looking up at the sky anymore, from what he could see in his peripheral vision. Maybe to the side. At Kuroo.

“You listen to Frank Ocean?” Kuroo rolled onto his elbow to look at Tsukki.

“You trying to fuck me or something?” Tsukki snorted. Kuroo’s grin only got wider.

“Maybe. But do you listen to Frank Ocean though?”

Tsukki huffed and looked away. It was too dark to tell, but Kuroo would be willing to bet he was blushing.

“Yeah, I listen to Frank Ocean,” he muttered. 

“He’s kind of rude, but I like the music,” Kuroo said, letting the blond off the hook. “I’ve been trying to guess what you listen to when you put those headphones on during literally any downtime we have, and I was thinking maybe he was one of them.”

“Hmm. Sometimes. Usually it’s heavy metal remixes of Mozart, though.”

Kuroo propped himself up so quickly that his elbow cracked in protest, but he was now face level with Tsukki, staring at him intensely. “Really?”

Tsukki laughed. “No.”

“Dork,” Kuroo grumbled. He dragged the rest of his body upwards until he was actually sitting again, and spread his legs out on the grass. His thigh was touching Tsukki’s, and neither of them pulled away. Kuroo leaned back slightly, his hand braced on the grass mere inches behind Tsukki’s back.

“I don’t think anyone’s called me a dork before,” Tsukishima said mildly. “I didn’t think that was the impression I gave off.”  
“You really are one,” Kuroo said. “You’re just about tall enough to scare most people off before they can see that about you, but you didn’t have me fooled for long. Besides, I’m taller.”

“For now,” Tsukishima reminded him. “What did you think about me before you knew I was—unfortunately—a huge dork?”

“I don’t know,” Kuroo murmured. “Look at me?”

Tsukki turned the few inches he needed to actually face him, confusion in the tilt of his eyebrows. Oh, Kuroo liked that so much. Liked this boy so much. Fuck, he was so cute.

“I think my first impression was ‘gorgeous,’” Kuroo said honestly. He was close enough that even in the dim light he could see Tsukki’s eyes widen slightly.

“Oh,” Tsukki breathed, and Kuroo could see that too, his mouth opening to shape the word. He couldn’t look away. He could. He looked back at Tsukki’s eyes, Tsukki’s lips, back to Tsukki’s eyes. The blond still hadn’t said anything, no witty remark or cutting burn to put them safely back in the zone of joking. So Kuroo leaned in, and kissed him.

And kissed him. And kissed him. And kissed him. And Tsukki was kissing back.

Kuroo didn’t know Hinata was smart enough to organize a midsummer post-training camp party for students and alumni, much less convince one of Fukurodani’s third years to host it at his mansion of a house—and there were coaches here who just didn’t care that thirty-odd underage kids were just hanging out? But Kuroo should have known that Hinata’s urge to socialize with anyone he had or could meet would only grow over the years, so there Kuroo was, two years after graduation, drinking completely unalcoholic water with ice at some stranger’s house in order to see a handful of people he used to play volleyball with and please an exuberant little orange man.   
It wasn’t an entirely apt description. Bokuto and Akaashi were both here and Kuroo saw them just as often as he saw his new college friends, and Kenma, though he’d disappeared to hang around Hinata tonight, had never even left Kuroo’s life. On the other hand, there were two years’ worth of people from each team that he’d never gotten to know—studying and lab reports and internships were mutually exclusive with hanging around his alma mater’s volleyball team practices. He hadn’t even dropped by this week’s training camp, not when he went from his class to the library to his bed and then hit repeat.   
He didn’t really even know the new people on his own team, so for the past half hour since he’d arrived he’d just let Inuoka and Lev drag him around and show him off to intimidate the shorties at the party. He’d forgotten just about every name as soon as it had been introduced to him-Kuroo was starting to wonder if he would have been better off just having movie night with the boys, and then he caught sight of a blond head. Tsukishima—Tsukki, his Tsukki—was slinking away from where Bokuto and Hinata were trying to balance a volleyball on top of champagne flutes in spite of Akaashi’s best efforts, and Kuroo watched as he pulled open the sliding door to the back patio and slipped through. It wasn’t until the door snapped shut behind him that Kuroo, hearing the sound echo in his head even though he was too far away to have actually heard it. Without a word Kuroo left behind the two brats at his elbow and followed to where he had seen Tsukki disappear.

He found him sitting at the side of the rich-boy’s pool, backlit by porchlights and glowing from the blue pool lights. Because—or maybe in spite of all that—Tsukki’s eyes glittered when he heard the door snap shut and saw Kuroo approaching.

“Hey there,” Kuroo said, grinning widely because he didn’t think he could force his face into any other expression.

Tsukki rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to play whatever game you and Bokuto have cooked up.”

Kuroo ignored him and settled down a foot away, carefully not hanging his own legs over the pool deck. “I honestly have no idea what Bokuto’s up to.”  
“Do any of us ever?”

He chuckled at that. “Akaashi knows. Keeps a data spreadsheet or something.”

“Everyone’s got a quirk,” Tsukki said, “And Akaashi’s is that he can keep up with Bokuto.”

“Bokuto is a quirk,” Kuroo rebutted, and Tsukki laughed at that, and that made something light up in Kuroo’s chest. This was dumb. He hadn’t talked to Tsukki in a year.

“What are you doing out here then?” Tsukki hadn’t lost the glasses, but the new frames he was sporting—thinner, more gold and less black—made his skeptical look even more visible.

“I should ask you that, I just followed you. I thought you broke your habit of leaving the party early to go to bed?”

He rolled his eyes again. “I feared for my life and dignity if I stayed within fifty feet of Hinata and Bokuto any longer. I might be willing—upon occasion—to put in an extra five or ten minutes of personal practice with the human tangerine but no way in hell am I risking my beautiful body and mind to party with him.”

“Roll your beautiful eyes too often and they might fall out of your beautiful head.”

“Impossible,” Tsukki grinned. “It’s simply a workout for my eye-rolling muscles.”

“Ah, captain Tsukki, can I skip my flying receives and roll my eyes for twenty reps instead?” Kuroo teased.

“I’m not the captain,” Tsukki said, but he didn’t sound salty about it, and Kuroo remembered from the last Karasuno game he’d seen that Tsukki had a bold three on his jersey while Hinata had had a five.

“But you’re teaching all your kouhais everything I taught you, right? I knew I shouldn’t have let Nekoma secrets fall into the hands of you crows.” Kuroo added mournfully.

“Not everything,” Tsukki said with a grin, but in between Kuroo’s head shooting up and him opening his mouth to comment on that- “and basic blocking isn’t exactly a team secret.”

“Hey. It wasn’t basic. Me teaching you everything I knew—”  
“—that was everything you knew? Gosh, your brain is small.”  
“—I’m literally an honors student.”

“My bad, Honors Student-kun.” Such an arrogant smirk. “I hope I’m not keeping you from shoving your nose in your books like a good little nerd.”  
“Says the skinny dork with glasses whose most notable ability on the court is using his brain. Real impressive, the announcers love that.”

“They do.” The corners of Tsukki’s lips curled up. “I got scouted.”

“Well fuck!” Banter aside, Kuroo smacked Tsukki on the back, shocked and impressed. “That’s amazing, Tsukki!”

“Not sure if I should take it or not. I doubt I’d make a career of it, but I feel—I don’t know.”

Tsukki’s gaze had gone far away again, even as Kuroo put his chin on his knee to watch him. “Even if you don’t take it, it’s still amazing you got an offer. You really are impressive.”

“How would you know?” Again with the skeptical glance.

“I saw one of your guys’ games recently. You’re almost as good of a blocker as I was. And you can spike now too? A package deal.”

“Don’t make me push you in the pool.”

Kuroo gave him a teasing grin, but Tsukki was back to looking up at the skyline. “There are other ways of making me shut up.”

“I think a nice cold dip would be pretty effective.”

“I think it would just make me louder.”

Tsukki’s phone buzzed, and he glanced down at it. In the soft light Kuroo caught a tiny smile that tugged at his mouth before he shut his phone off and looked back at Kuroo. “Want to go back in? Akaashi’s probably wrangled the other two by now.”

“Sure,” Kuroo lied, and covered it up by hopping to his feet. Tsukki followed suit, and he worked on easing the pang of disappointment and they pushed through the sliding door again.

The puzzle pieces didn’t click together until Karasuno’s captain and pinch server—was he still just a pinch server? Kuroo hadn’t been focusing much on him the last time he’d seen a Karasuno match—came up and gently bumped arms with Tsukishima. He looked fucking fantastic, and this was coming from a guy who had spent too much time around Akaashi Keiji to be impressed by just anyone. Oh, who was Kuroo trying to fool? He was a slut for anyone that looked in his general direction. But that didn’t mean any less for the boy in front of him who in two years had gone from ‘yeah, that’s a high-schooler’ to ‘oh, high-schoolers look like that now?’  
He’d bleached seafoam green highlights into his hair and gotten rid of the lazy haircut he had before; this time it was pulled back with a hairtie, close cropped at the nape of his neck and soft locks framing his face, and it was still undeniably masculine. Gold jewelry glinted at his ears and gold glittered in the corners of his eyelids. Kuroo had no idea if his eyelashes were touched by makeup or not, but damn if they weren’t. The same gentle but mischievous smile pulled at his lips, though, and he still was a touch shorter, a touch more laid back than Tsukishima. Kuroo’s eyes dropped to the letterman jacket on him, pausing a moment to read the Gucci on it before remembering—Yamaguchi. That was the boy’s name. 

“Kuroo-senpai,” Yamaguchi said, friendly and quiet as always. Nostalgia crashed over Kuroo like a falling bookshelf. 

“Captain Karasuno,” He replied, trademark grin now firmly back in place. “Congrats, kid!”

“Thanks,” and damn he had a beautiful smile, Kuroo thought. No wonder. No wonder he thought again as he saw that the two had entwined their arms in a quiet way, and Tsukki’s tiny smile was back.

“Kuroo!” Bokuto was yelling from across the room, and Kuroo decided to bolt for the newly opened window out of this situation.

“I’ll see you two around,” he said, and tried to slide away as gracefully as possible. They just watched him go without protest, and once his back was turned, he could finally, finally let his face fall.

**Author's Note:**

> here's a couple rough sketches of third year yamaguchi  
> https://www.tiktok.com/@h.p.friday/video/6901488465339354374?lang=en
> 
> here's the ever-inspiring tiktok  
> https://www.tiktok.com/@teddddyyy/video/6835886733880528134?lang=en


End file.
